Searching
by thecowofwisdom
Summary: Misty and Cordelia had something in common: they were always searching. Foxxay oneshot written in the early hours. T for language.


**A short Foxxay fic written very early in the morning: I must admit, this isn't my best but I wanted to sort of skim over the whole series in a oneshot and explore Misty. I also do some great plot devices to suit my needs. Well anyway, enjoy and all feedback appreciated. **

**DISCLAIMER: Unfortunately, I do not own or write for American Horror Story so I don't own anything. **

**Searching**

Misty was always looking for a tribe.

She was always alone. At school she was an outcast, ridiculed by her fellow classmates with her Cajun twang and her ripped clothing; she was ridiculed for her family, devoutly religious, and tormented daily. Even among her family and her religious peers, she never found solace: they would punish her and force her to fast and beat her when she questioned their teachings that brought her so much pain at school.

So she took to nature. In the swamplands surrounding her small family home she would wander, looking after the plants, wading through the waters and observing the alligators like they were her brethren, smiling and laughing with them. It was in this setting she discovered her powers of Resurgence. She formed a bond with nature and with all living things. She felt the beauty of life and nature rewarded her as such, or that's how she saw it as she mourned the loss of a baby alligator, only to see it breathe life in her arms again.

She did not question her abilities; she merely sent the creature back to its mother as a token of thanks and promised to help all things. Even when those that had caused her harm or mocked her suffered injury, she would help without thanks, merely a frightened look as they scampered away, not understanding nor willing to.

Of course, her ability ostracized her more from those around her: her mother began to suspect the Devil in her, her father shutting her in the house. In those dark moments she found Stevie: her Stevie. She played her tunes to forget her torment and remember all nature had given her and the beauty that surrounded her.

As she grew older she questioned their beliefs more she began to draw further and further away from their teachings to see less in the beauty of God than ever before-no, that was wrong, less in the beauty of _their_ God, the one who advocated cruelty and harm and death. She constructed her own values and saw God differently from them: and they burned her for it.

It was at this point she began to search for her tribe. She had never before felt so alone and she needed someone to help her, to understand her: all these years of loneliness caught up to her. She still found solace in her swampland hut, in the plants and the animals that surrounded her but she needed a person, someone their to guide her and help her. Even Stevie could not help her all the time.

Then she met Zoe. Zoe who she welcomed into her home with that boy Kyle and she was happy, happy that she had met these two people who brought her rest from her loneliness.

But…. but it wasn't what she wanted. As she looked into Zoe, searching for anything that showed a connection she found… nothing. As she rambled about Stevie and her soul and finally having some company she found the girl detached…even freaked out by her. Misty wondered whether she was too forward, whether she had said too much, whether she was never meant for human connection, never good enough.

The treatment of the boy gave her relief from these thoughts that plagued her. At least, she thought, she had a half dead boy to keep company who could barely utter a word. He seemed to like Stevie, and it was nice, once in while, to confide in someone like him, someone who was incapable of forming judgments of her, or at least unable to voice them.

And then she took him from her and she lied to her and she was all alone: she said she would come back but she knew, she _knew_ it was a lie because no one ever did. She could sense it was all a lie: she had no intention of coming back. And she was left alone again with her Stevie in her own little world, crying once more because she truly believed she could find no one with a connection to her. Not one person who could make her feel good and special and whole again.

And they all lied.

She was sad, and for the first time angry with those who left her and she vowed to be more sparing with her kindness and her gift: not to trust so blindly. But that poor witch burnt to a crisp on a mound changed her mind. No person deserved to die that way: she could nurture this person back to health and maybe, just maybe, she would stay.

And she was torn from her home; her lovely swamp home as that boy and Zoe, came back reluctantly and for their own interests. Always self-interest. She needed her help and of course she agreed because she could not say no. She could not leave a person in danger that did not deserve their fate, and ultimately this girl had come back. So she went.

The greenhouse she was bundled into was beautiful: she could feel the purity of the place and the calm it oozed. It made her smile, despite her broken Stevie: it made her smile that someone had nurtured these plants, as she would have done and that maybe she wasn't totally alone, that someone else cared too. She was tugged from her reverie by Zoe demanding a resurrection and she had half a mind to say no because quite frankly she did not _have_ to bring back anybody but of course she said yes. Besides, something about this place made her feel generous and hopeful again.

And as soon as she stepped out of that greenhouse she was hit with it: the foul smell and the bad vibes. There was something festering in this house and she had no desire to stay there much longer. She was tempted by Zoe's offer, but something about the place gave her the creeps. She sensed something though through all that evil, something light in the dark fumbling upstairs trying to find a home. She almost went to it but then it was gone, swallowed by that evil presence. She grabbed her bagels and left, with little intention of ever returning or ever seeing any of those witches again.

Of course fate had other plans. A few weeks later, she was running back to that place with her care charge in tow looking for safety. This time it seemed warmer, more inviting, not that she would not go in because she was running for her life and she did need some sort of tribe.

She ran through those doors with the intention of staying only a few nights. She was lead up to her room with the intention of staying for the rest of her life.

The first time she met Cordelia Foxx she didn't really have time to coalesce her thoughts. All she could say was that this woman was warm and she shone. Amongst all those souls she was with, this one felt right. This woman was wary of her and it would only be later that she would realize it was because of all the wrong this woman had endured, but she let her into the Coven and Misty knew, somehow, she could never let this woman leave her. And as she was ushered into the house, as she watched the reunion of two old friends she felt she could belong. Not in the Coven, but with this woman who had shown her kindness, had chosen to protect her and care for her not for her powers but because she knew it was right to do so.

Misty made herself at home. She was hesitant and unsure and a lot of the time she felt completely isolated from the others, but it was Cordelia that made it bearable: Cordelia and her greenhouse.

At first Misty wasn't sure whether the greenhouse was open to all: it seemed to her Cordelia was the only one ever in there so she would sneak in at night to check on the plants and to feel at home. But one evening she was caught.

'Hello?'

'Oh! Oh I'm sorry Miss Cordelia I don't want to intrude or anything I'm sorry I'll just leave and I'm sorry'

'Stop Misty, it's fine. You're welcome here whenever you like.'

'Really? Oh thank you Miss Cordelia!'

'It's nothing. No one's ever shown an interest in the greenhouse anyway but perhaps you can care for the plants better than I can.'

'Oh but Miss Cordelia the plants love it here. I can tell when I feel 'em and talk to 'em. I would love it if I could help ya with them all… that is if it's no trouble.'

'I would love it too. It would be nice to have some company.'

They stayed that night in the greenhouse, Fleetwood Mac playing softly as they sat and enjoyed the peace. Misty felt in that moment more complete than she ever had as the two woman talked long into the morning. As the sun began to rise she led Cordelia up to her room, guiding her gently and bidding her a good day before retreating to her room. And as she lay there, she realized for the first time she felt utterly contented.

The greenhouse became a ritual for them both: they would meet at night tending to the flowers with the low tones of Stevie Nicks urging on their work. Then it became a daily thing too: once or twice a week Misty would take lessons from Cordelia in the greenhouse during the day, learning from her. Then it became a 'whenever possible' thing. They would meet in the greenhouse frequently, not necessarily because they were searching for each other, but because this was their refuge against reality.

'Miss Cordelia why're ya cryin'?' offered Misty, making her way over to the woman standing over some Chrysanthemums. Cordelia's shoulders shook with silent tears as she tried to maintain some dignity.

'Please don't cry Miss Cordelia, ain't nothin' in this world you should be cryin' about.' Misty attempted to get Cordelia to look at her but the woman turned away.

'Miss Cordelia ya gotta let me help ya. I feel sorta helpless and I hate ta see my friend all in tears. At least let me take ya upstairs?'

'No. No the girls they can't see me like this. I'm fine Misty really.'

'You don't look it Miss Cordelia. And ya have a bruise. Come on Miss Cordelia, y'know I'm perfectly willin' to heal it for ya. Here' Misty tenderly turned her face towards her and placed her hands on either side of Cordelia's head, closing her eyes and concentrating.

'There. Good as new. As beautiful as ever.' Misty gave a small smile, a kind smile, and Cordelia tried to return it, tried to reflect it in her eyes. But she soon looked down and away, resuming her somber state.

'Thank you Misty.'

'No problem Miss Cordelia: are ya going to tell me what's wrong?'

'I….Fiona.'

'Oh.'

'And Hank.'

'Oh.'

'I just… I was such an **idiot**: I let him into this Coven for seven years. A witch hunter walking among us and I thought I _loved_ him and I _trusted _him. My mother was right: I'm blind. I'm blind and powerless who brings nothing good to this Coven.'

'Stop it. Stop it Miss Cordelia.'

'Everything Fiona says is true. I'm a failure, I don't belong here and I'm utterly USELESS' she swiped the flowers onto the ground, the pot shattering at Misty's feet and she took a step back.

'I have nothing. I have no one.' Cordelia's voice had lowered to a whisper. Misty took a second, watching as Cordelia cried once more in despair.

'Miss Cordelia I don't think that's true for one minute. I know she's your mother but she talks as much shit as a swamp rat has flees. You can't listen to her Miss Cordelia.' Misty moved back towards Cordelia.

'Shall I tell ya why I came down here?' Cordelia looked up. 'I came down here because I met Stevie Nicks. I mean, Stevie Nicks upstairs huggin' me: can you imagine? Well I thought it was great. But you know what Stevie told me? She told me to get outta here. This place is full of dark magic she said and this ain't no place for a White Witch. But I told her I have to stay.' Misty placed her hands on Cordelia's arms, forcing the woman to look at her. 'I know there's bad stuff in this Coven; I knew it from the moment I set foot in here. But this is my tribe. There is goodness in this place, a good power that stays in the shadows because the darkness stops it gettin' out and I know it's my duty to help it and to protect it from the dark. Your momma, Miss Cordelia, is the darkness and you are the light.'

'Misty…'

'You listen Miss Cordelia: you're what's keepin' me here. And whatever your momma says is nothin': she can't even see you through all her darkness. But I can. I surrounded myself with the White Spirit Light and I can see. So don't you listen Miss Cordelia, not for one second. Please Miss Cordelia.' Misty pulled the older woman into a hug, wrapping her in a shawl and she felt Cordelia shake in her arms, weeping.

'Sshhh Miss Cordelia, there ain't nothing to be cryin' about.'

Misty knew Cordelia was worth ten times all the witches in the Coven, not only in terms of power but, she was finding out, to her as well. Misty would do anything for her and to see her broken and hurt by her own mother was enough to twist Misty's heart in two. Misty finally felt like she belonged but the person that made her feel this way was as outcast as ever.

Misty took it upon herself to watch Cordelia from now on: people were piling their blame and hatred for Hank on her and she just took it. Misty did not feel sorry for her, but rather empathized with the woman who seemed now to be reminding her of all her childhood years: reminding her of her own self that was too trusting but she just couldn't help herself.

However, Misty soon found herself locked in a coffin with no way out as Madison Montgomery exacted her supremacy. The whole situation was rather frightening, but it also gave her time to think. Think about Cordelia to be more precise because she'd never really had a real human bond and suddenly she found herself willing to give everything to this woman. She knew, somewhere in her, that this went beyond close friends but she couldn't be sure. And somehow she wasn't objecting to the idea of more than friends either. She enjoyed their time together: they moved seamlessly around the greenhouse, not needing to say a word to each other as they compensated for one another's needs. They were in sync, they understood one another, and they had revealed parts of themselves that they never would to any other. They had been through the same ordeals: they were outcast and dismissed, just seeking acceptance and approval. Whether that brought them together Misty didn't know: all she knew was that she liked Cordelia a lot and the fact she was about the only thing on her mind in that coffin seemed to give Misty a pretty clear indication of where her feelings lay.

Soon her trip to the coffin was no longer a reflective but became quite serious as her oxygen ran out and consciousness lost its hold.

The next thing she saw was Cordelia's face at the end of her coffin.

'Shit.'

'Welcome back Misty' greeted Cordelia with a small smile 'Queenie, head back to the car, I'll help Misty.'

'Whatever.' As Queenie stalked off, Cordelia came round and attempted to thrust a helping hand towards Misty. Misty took the slightly off-place hand and pulled herself up and out of the tomb, brushing herself off.

'Thank you Miss Cordelia for savin' my life'

'Not at all; shall we go back?'

'Sure but can I ask?'

'Ask what?'

'Why did you lose your sight Miss Cordelia?'

'…I was useless Misty; I was useless without my sight. And I couldn't find you. I needed to find you.'

'Miss Cordelia….' Misty began leading her towards the car 'I feel…flattered but ya didn't need to do that. You were always useful and I don't wanna be responsible for you losing your sight.'

'Misty, it was my decision. No one else's.'

'If I hadn't been so stupid...'

'Misty, look at me' they stopped walking as Misty looked into Cordelia's clouded eyes 'this was not your fault. You were tricked by that bitch Madison and I needed to find you.'

'Alright Miss Cordelia, but when we get back I'm gonna show that Hollywood brat not ta mess with me.'

'And I fully condone it. Now come on.'

The ride back was silent, neither of the two women willing to expand on anything with Queenie in the car but both lost in their own thoughts. Reaching the academy, Misty all but flew out of the car and headed straight for the back door, intent on dealing with Madison. Cordelia merely chuckled and followed at her own pace.

But as the somewhat amusing scuffle between the two witches dies down, things took a somber turn and Misty could only stand by and watch as Cordelia tried so very hard not to break down about the fate of her mother. Misty didn't like the woman, but she was still Cordelia's mother. She took her anguish out on the Axeman, joining in with the brutal murder to help her drown out her feelings of helplessness and to exact some sort of revenge for Cordelia.

'All four of you will have the chance to perform the Seven Wonders.'

Misty cowered at the thought of having to perform these feats of magic: she didn't want to be the Supreme. As they headed upstairs for the evening, Misty followed Cordelia.

'Miss Cordelia?' she called, tentatively knocking on the door

'Misty…' replied a small, chocked voice. She took that as a signal for entering and did so, closing the door behind her. It was dark in the room, so she slowly made her way towards Cordelia's shadow.

'Are you okay Miss Cordelia?'

'I'm fine Misty'

'S'cuse me for sayin', but you don't sound fine.'

'I….' Misty took no further cue and enveloped her in a hug and once again, Cordelia felt free to cry into Misty's arms.

'Miss Cordelia…I'm sorry.'

'Why? Not your fault and it wasn't as if she was anything but cruel to me.'

'She was your momma Miss Cordelia; you're allowed to cry, even if she was a bitch.'

'I feel so weak.' Cordelia bundled further into Misty and she was struggling to remain upright so she gently guided the two of them onto the double bed, lying down as Cordelia curled up into Misty's arms and covered herself in the shawl.

'Miss Cordelia you cry it all out. When I was in that coffin, I was cryin' for all kindsa things: I was cryin' because I was weak, because I would never hear Stevie again and… other things… but I realized that you shouldn't ever be ashamed'a cryin''

'Thank you Misty.' They lay in relative silence, Cordelia's sniffles penetrating the air every so often.

'Misty?'

'Yes Miss Cordelia?'

'I can't see you any more.'

'I know'

'Can I…can I try to see you?'

'…what do ya mean?'

'I want to touch you, see if I can see you. I want to see something again.'

'..uh..Miss Cordelia, doesn't that power'a yours see everythin in my head?'

'Well..I suppose I thought maybe you'd have the least to hide from me but…no, I'm sorry it was a stupid idea.'

'No Miss Cordelia it wasn't…..' Silence once again filled the room as Misty contemplated the pros and cons of permitting Cordelia's wish.

'Miss Cordelia?'

'Yes?'

'Okay.'

'Okay?'

'Yeah…I..I think so…. just don't…don't hate me okay? I don't really know what's happenin' so…. I just…yeah.'

'Alright…' Cordelia shuffled herself so she was level with Misty's face and slowly reached out her hand to touch her cheek. Misty shut her eyes in anticipation: she could hear the sharp intake of breath as Cordelia's hand made contact and the visions began.

'Misty…..I….'

'I'm sorry Miss Cordelia. I don't really know what you saw but I…I'm havin' troublin' thoughts… well not troublin' but maybe troublin' to you and I just don't really know what to think you see: I ain't never had anybody who means a lot to me and you're the first and I really really don't wanna screw this up so I'm sorry Miss Cordelia, I really am I just…'

'Misty…. Let me finish. Calm down.' Misty thought she could sense a smirk on Cordelia's face. 'Misty… you don't need to panic. What I saw was…beautiful. What I saw was you and me together and I liked it. Misty Day, you have been the only person in this Coven to hold unwavering belief in me and you have been there for me when those who have known me my whole life have abandoned me. I held little back in telling you everything about me and for the first time, in you company, I felt safe and worth something. You make me feel, for lack of a better phrase, warm and fuzzy.'

'Miss Cordelia…'

'So I am not angry or mad; and I certainly don't hate you okay? But I would love to spend time with you and right now I would love to kiss you, okay?'

'…. Okay.' Misty's voice was barely a whisper as Cordelia guided herself to Misty's lips. For her, it was like a world of feeling that had never been opened up to her before as Cordelia's lips glided over hers. She was clumsy and she was unsure, but she decided to just go with it and when she stopped thinking about it, she started to enjoy it. When Cordelia pulled away she let out a disappointed groan. Cordelia chuckled and Misty grinned sheepishly.

'Wow.'

'Yeah.'

'Uh…what does this mean Miss Cordelia?'

'First it means you really need to stop calling me Miss Cordelia. It's Cordelia. Or Delia.'

'Okay. Sorry M-... Cordelia.'

'Better.' Cordelia lightly kissed her once again, pulling away quickly and pressing their foreheads together.

'I'd also rather you didn't perform the Seven Wonders.' Cordelia whispered hesitantly.

'Why not?'

'They're dangerous.'

'But I can handle it'

'You could die I only just got you and no matter how cliché it sounds, I don't want to loose you. Ever.' Cordelia emphasized her point with a kiss.

'Mmmm, okay.'

'Okay?'

'I guess. I didn't really wanna perform them anyway: I ain't no Supreme.'

'Hmmm, I feel selfish not allowing you to perform them.'

'I'm perfectly happy with the decision and that's all that matters. I found my tribe, I don't need ta lead it Delia.'

'Fair enough.' This time it was Misty who initiated a slow kiss, trying to memorize everything about Cordelia's lips, wanting to take all the time in the world. She pulled away slightly.

'Hey Delia?'

'Yes Misty?'

'You make me feel warm and fuzzy too.'


End file.
